


A Touch At Midnight

by basketcasewrites



Series: x Reader [1]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Other, Soft Ending, all clothes are gender neutral (I just think dresses are sexy), gender neutral reader, they/them Venom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 22:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basketcasewrites/pseuds/basketcasewrites
Summary: In the dream-like time of night that is midnight, you and Venom meet.





	A Touch At Midnight

The dress you wear is satin.

It hangs off your body like finely spun silk. When you run your hands down your sides, the material so delicate you can feel the lines of your body, you might as well not be wearing anything at all.

"Y/N." They're here.

You don't know why you expected them to use the front door, when they never do.

You smooth your hands down the front of the dress— brand new and bought for the occasion.

You can feel them. At the door to the balcony, watching you. Or in the corner near the pot plant you don't remember buying, watching you.  
Wherever they stand, their eyes are on you.

"Are you going to watch me the whole night, Venom—" you bury a nervous swallow and say, "Or are you going to join me?"

The city opens wide beneath and around you. Bustling, even this near to midnight.

The metal railing runs its way around the balcony. You ignore the railings iciness and curl your hands around it. With each passing second you grow more impatient, the tapping of your fingers shows this even as you try to hide it.  
You long for Venom to be beside you; inside you; around you.

"Y/N." Venom stands behind you, absently you wonder when they had moved. Wonder when they had learned to move with such silence, such stealth. They loom over you, their front pressed to your back, and when they say your name it is tiny jolts of electricity dancing in your veins.

You hum, a gentle thing under your breath. "I've been waiting," you say, quietly and your gaze still stuck on the skyline. Turning enough just to catch their eyes, you say, "My drink's gotten warm."

A low growl erupts from behind you, from somewhere in their throat. "I missed you," Venom speaks, and their voice is gravel and thunderstorms tangled together.

You turn to face them. Of all the things you forget, you wonder how their height manages to escape you. How the sheer thickness of them seems to slip from your mind.

You crane your neck to meet their gaze. "I missed you, too." Sincerity in your voice.

"What are you drinking? I can get you more if you want... if it will make you happy."

Venom, so eager to please you.  
You stare into their eyes, think about the city behind you, and shake your head; you feel much the same.

Their hands rest on the swell of your hips. The hold is strong— keeping you near flush to them and solid in place— but you know if you ask Venom to let you go, they will.

"It's okay," you say, with a nod of your head.

"You sure?" Venom asks.

Again, you nod. Hands on your body electrifies you, reminds you of how little you are wearing.

Conversation is tiring. The hours you spent preparing and waiting coil in the pit of your stomach, throb between your legs.  
Hungry to touch them, to be touched by them, you splay your fingers across their chest.

They brush a curl of hair off your forehead.

Their tongue, deep pink and curling as if it has a mind of its own, hangs in front of your face. The tip touches to the snub of your nose, the bow of your lips.

"Hmm..." You allow the low sound escape.

Their tongue bumps against the line of your mouth. Begs entrance that you readily grant, opening and relishing in the silk-slick feel of it dancing in your mouth, tickling at your throat.

Your breath hitches. Venom reacts instantly.

Their hands begin to ruck up your dress and you pull away. "Don't tear the dress," you say, the warning lost in your breathlessness.

Pulling you close to them, their hands tighten around the swell of your thighs. Squeeze. "Why?" Venom questions, a cheeky grin alight on their face as they set you to lie on the day bed.

Hands on your body. Pushing up your dress, savouring at the reveal of more and more skin.

"Just... Don't tear it."

"I can buy you a new one. Two new ones," they insist; playful, teasing as they gently push your dress to gather above your hips.

Naked under the dress. Exposed to Venom's eyes, to anyone who should happen to look from their window to your balcony, a blush colours your skin.

You drop your head back. "No, Ven... No. The dress stays... in one piece."

Cool air touches your bare skin, first in gusts that surprise and then in something that presses on you in the same way Venom does.

Their tongue licks at your inner thigh. A series of slow flicks touch dappled skin, send pleasure in violent quivers up the curve of your spine.

"Can I touch you?" Venom asks, voice a rasp. Drifting off and meeting your eyes, their tongue is listless as it twists between your widespread legs.

You swallow loudly. Running your tongue over too dry lips, you say, "Yes. You can." You try to keep the airiness from your voice. But Venom stands between your legs, bends over you so that their face is close to yours, and you can barely breathe.

The wetness of their tongue meets that of your body's. Tendrils of black-ink tentacles stretch across your skin, move inside you in the same maddening rhythm. Slow. Steady.

A tear falls from your eye, down your cheek. A cry escapes the circle of your mouth. "Oh God," you stutter, almost stupidly, "Oh God."

Your reaction seems to drive him, seems to motivate his every action.  
Their tongue slides in deeper. With each of your cries their tongue twists— expertly, as if Venom has made a living out of eating out.

Your climax, when it takes you, takes you forcefully. You clench around Venom's tongue, still moving inside you.

You are classy, refined, you tell yourself. But this close to the edge, Venom pushing and nipping and licking, you throw your head back and whine a barely intelligible repetition of their name.

✴️          ✴️          ✴️  

  
"Your turn now," you manage to say, some time later when you have caught enough of your breath.

You know what you look like. Your hair a tangle of knots, thin sheet of sweat coating both your skin and the satin of your dress, gulping and gasping.  
You look like a mess. Absently, you think somebody should tell Venom that. They look at you as if you are beauty personified, and actually whisper these words in your ear when they notice your staring.

Venom curls around you. So close you imagine that your racing heart is thunderous in their ears, that your inhales and exhales are thunderous gusts of wind.

A slow shake of their head. "Not now," Venom says. Their tongue dances in the space above your face— when you had pulled Venom in for a kiss a moment ago you could still taste yourself.

Their head muzzles the side of yours.

The moment is peaceful; a delicate, almost fragile thing. It is a stark contrast to how the night began.

The kiss Venom places to your cheek is soft. "Just want to cuddle... For now." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see how I procrastinate, shoot me some asks or just hang out, you can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shuriidyke) or at my [Venom side blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/unholyvenom)


End file.
